


Artificial Immortality

by Neversacrificeanything



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Norse Religion & Lore, F/M, I think Im one of the first people to write Ichirou/Aaron, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, even though its not in the story, golden apples, it is implied that Ichirou and Aaron have sex when Aaron is underage, so theres that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 14:18:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15366504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neversacrificeanything/pseuds/Neversacrificeanything
Summary: "Do you know why people come from the furthest corners of the world to come here?" Aurora asks. She takes an apple in her hand and plucks it off the branch. Without waiting for an answer from Castor, she continues. "It's because they fear death. The uncertainty scares them." She holds out the apple. "And you know what this does.""It prolongs life." But it's much more than that. It can make the fear seem less real. By pushing it back they can forget for a short time that there was anything to fear at all. It can give them power. Makes them think they're invincible for out-smarting death. It can give them hope. Hope that maybe they can use the extra time to change something, that the world will be a little better when they do leave.For these golden apples do give people a sense of immortality, eating one can also give something far more precious: possibilities.





	Artificial Immortality

The sky is speckled with green. Beneath the silky leaves, curled in on themselves, brown eyes stare at the endless void. Purples, blues, oranges and yellows cluster together like clouds, creating galaxies and nebulas. Stars twinkle and blink in and out of existence. They're dying, just like everything else. 

Nimble fingers work quickly, weaving flowers together. It grows and becomes an intricate crown of pink and white wildflowers. The dead grass under their body tickles their neck and tangles in their hair. With an ear pressed against the ground, the world speaks to them. It whispers stories and warnings, ones that make their fingers freeze. Told countless times to disregard the whisperings, this one warning seems too real to ignore. Birds of prey and years of ice and dying stars.

Moving with the wind, like a presence gently guiding them, they find themselves in a grand hall. Wooden beams run the length of the ceiling, colourful birds peer over the edge to see what all the movement is about. Clutching the bundle of flowers in one hand, the other is pressed against the wall. The hand slides against the wall and they feel every imperfection in the stone wall. Never taking their hand off the wall leads them to an open room with a skylight. Unlike the calm, peaceful world they were just in, the skylight shows a raging storm with angry, grey clouds and huge raindrops.

Singing drowns out the sound of the storm. The rain looks like bullets against the glass, threatening to shatter the safety it provides any moment. A fire on the far side of the room glows warm and calming. Someone occupies one of the chairs, legs drawn up and a blanket draped over them.

"Castor." Their back is to him, but as they are the only two people in the house it makes guessing games unnecessary. "How was your walk?"

"I heard it again," he confesses, crushing some of the flowers in his tight grip. "The world is dying, just like everything else." A delicate laughter bounces off the walls and Castor frowns. "Aurora?" 

"Not everything, Castor," Aurora corrects and beckons over the child. Feet padding against the floor, he stands in front of the woman. Aurora wraps an arm around Castor’s waist and pulls him down so that he's curled up beside Aurora. "What's that?" 

Castor glances down and notices the crown still gripped in his hand. Some of the flowers have come out-of-place, but the overall shape is still there. Castor holds out the crown of flowers. 

"I made it for you," he mumbles. Aurora smiles and that gives Castor more confidence. "I picked flowers from the garden and weaved them together just like you showed me!" 

Aurora places the crown of flowers on her own head. "It's beautiful." Silence doesn't last long. A bang of thunder, louder than the music coming from the radio, makes Castor jump. His wide eyes meet Aurora's soft ones and he scrambles off her lap. 

"I don't know why you like it here so much," he says, standing close enough to the fire that he can feel the heat on his back. 

"The rain calms me," Aurora answers. Aurora rises from her seat and extends a hand to Castor. "Come. It's time for another walk." 

 

Rows upon rows of trees act as barricades. Ripe, ruby coloured apples hang off branches, some low enough for animals to eat. The apples are stunning, but the real beauty is in the centre of the orchard. Unless someone's looking from the sky or at the very center, they wouldn't notice that the trees were planted so they form perfect circles. The circles grow larger and larger the further they get from the centre. 

Castor leads the way. Aurora walks with her hands clasped together behind her. The young child follows the path through the trees, easily finding his way to the middle. Lights hang from the one tree protected by hundreds. But as Castor walks closer, he sees that it's not lights producing the brilliant, golden light, but apples. Small, golden apples litter the ground from where they've fallen off the tree. Aurora takes the lead and circles the tree. It's really a magnificent sight.

"Do you know why people come from the furthest corners of the world to come here?" Aurora asks. She takes an apple in her hand and plucks it off the branch. Without waiting for an answer from Castor, she continues. "It's because they fear death. The uncertainty scares them." She holds out the apple. "And you know what this does."

"It prolongs life." But it's much more than that. It can make the fear seem less real. By pushing it back they can forget for a short time that there was anything to fear at all. It can give them power. Makes them think they're invincible for out-smarting death. It can give them hope. Hope that maybe they can use the extra time to change something, that the world will be a little better when they do leave.

For these golden apples do give people a sense of immortality, eating one can also give something far more precious: possibilities.

 

The smell changes when someone enters the orchid. 

Castor hides in the leaves of the trees, far enough that he's out of sight if anyone felt like letting their gaze wander. The lean man in the black cloak wasn't overly impressive. Castor has seen people wearing the colours of the rainbow and beautiful masks that hide their faces, surrounded by armies as they take their apple and leave without a word. Those are the people Castor has come to expect. The ones who are ashamed of their mortality. This man is different, a different Castor doesn’t know if he likes. 

Like everyone else on their first visit to the tree, the man’s steps falter when he approaches. There’s something strange and unnerving about the tree that deters many people from visiting, except for the few desperate people. Moving closer, trying to get a look at the man’s face, Castor jumps from tree to tree with little trouble. Everyone who visits the golden apples has a story and Castor wonders if this man’s will be interesting. 

Getting as close as he dares, Castor watches with wonder as the man kicks one of the apples that have fallen off the tree. Usually people only stay long enough to get their apple and leave, but this man seems to be waiting. He circles the tree, head tilted back to see the top. The apples near the top are especially plump. The man in the black cloak flicks back the hood, revealing his matching black hair. Now that the hood is gone, he can see the man’s eyes. There’s something unsettling about the way he’s watching the tree likes it’s a living, breathing beast, and Castor moves back further behind the leaves. Finally, the man reaches up and pulls an apple off its branch. It disappears into their pocket and they leave the way they came, heading back to the house. Taking a second just to breathe, Castor looks back at the tree of golden apples before he too returns to the house. 

Strolling into the front entrance, he finds Aurora talking to the man in the black cloak. He can’t hear what’s being said, but the tense set of Aurora’s face is worrying enough and Castor walks closer. As soon as she catches sigh of Castor, Aurora pulls him towards her and behind her dress. 

“I think it’s time for you to leave,” she says, gripping Castor’s arm to the point of hurting. Castor watches the man wearing the black cloak carefully, face half hidden in the fabric of Aurora’s dress. Aurora’s hospitality is extended to everyone, but that doesn’t mean she takes kindly to people making threats against her and her own. Only once has Castor seen her this infuriated, when her daughter was killed. 

Castor never met Larissa. He wasn’t living with Aurora when she lived. Just like every other child of Aurora, Larissa was not her biological daughter, but she loved her all the same. Larissa was killed by a man who thought he could control Aurora and her connection to the golden apples. Once he realized that Aurora wouldn’t cooperate, he killed Larissa, and Aurora killed him. For years after her daughter’s death, Aurora was cold and distant, angry at the world and herself. 

Slowly it has gotten better. Aurora was again a lively and joyful person, until this man showed up. 

Bowing deeply, the man swiftly makes his leave. Even after he’s gone, Aurora remains where she is, staring at the door the man just left through. 

“Castor, if you ever see that man again, run far away,” she orders, kneeling down to look him in the eyes. “That man is very dangerous, and I do not want you anywhere near him.” 

Looking at her with wide, trusting eyes, Castor says, “yes, Aurora.” 

Breathing a sigh of relief, Aurora kisses the top of his head and lightly pushes him in the direction of the stairs. “Good. Now, its late. Well past your bedtime.” 

“Will you read me a story tonight?” Castor asks. Getting a nod of confirmation from Aurora, Castor takes the stairs two at a time, stopping at the bathroom to brush his teeth. 

When Aurora walks into the room, a book tucked under her arm, she finds Castor buried under a mountain of blankets. Smiling softly, she takes a seat in the chair beside his bed and opens the book. “The early signs of autumn have barely begun to show itself when the first snow fall of the year happened…” 

 

It isn’t until years later that Castor sees the man in the black cloak again. Except this time, he’s heard the rumours and knows his name: Ichirou. When Ichirou approaches the front door, Castor isn’t a small child hiding behind Aurora’s dress, this time he’s standing beside the woman who has raised him. The rest of the kids are watching from the window. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Ichirou doesn’t bow to Aurora. The army of men behind Ichirou sends a shiver down Castor’s spine, but he doesn’t let his fear show on his face. 

When Aurora speaks, her voice is chilling. “What do you want?” 

“Only your cooperation,” he answers, shifting so they can see the sword hanging off his belt. “I need enough golden apples to feed my army, to make sure they can’t lose this war, and your assurance that our enemies will not get the same advantage.” 

Castor blinks at the man, marvelling at how misinformed he is. The apples don’t stop you from dying, they stop you from aging; and that’s the subtle difference. A knife can still kill a person who’s eaten an apple, but old age and disease will have no effect on that person. 

“What you want is impossible,” Castor answers, knowing that Aurora won’t mind him speaking up, “and you know our policies, we will not take sides in this war. Our apples will not be used as weapons. Anybody is allowed to come and pick an apple, and that will be the way it stays.” 

Remaining indifference in the face of refusal, Ichirou ignores Castor and speaks directly to Aurora. “Well, I thought you might reconsider, especially if you don’t want what happened last time to happen again.” 

Aurora couldn’t look more disinterested if she tried. As if Ichirou’s threats are nothing more than mild inconveniences. But Castor knows better. He knows that inside Aurora is terrified. This is exactly what she’s feared will one day happen again, and now her fears are playing out right in front of her. 

“You, Ichirou Moriyama, are no longer welcome here. Leave at once,” Aurora demands, placing her hand on the wooden support beam. The sound of doors slamming and locks turning echoes through the silence. The magic that connects Aurora and the land can sense her emotions and her intentions, and at this moment her intentions are screaming not to let this man hurt her family. 

Before anyone can move, Ichirou flicks his fingers and Aurora and Castor find themselves with a gun pointed at their heads. “You are not necessary to the success of my operation. If you die the magic and ownership of the apples goes to someone else.” 

“You cannot own the apples!” Aurora spats, fingers twitching as she holds back from moving. “I am merely a caretaker, not their keeper. They are for everybody.” 

“That is where you’re wrong,” Ichirou says. “Anything can be owned, if only someone has enough money and power. You are the only one standing in the way of this power. Now move or be killed.” 

Ichirou takes a threatening step forward, but Aurora doesn’t move. “Castor, go inside.”

For the first time, Ichirou’s attention is on Castor and the predatory grin he wears causes his heart rate to skyrocket. Reaching out and cupping Castor’s face in his palm, Ichirou looks into the eyes of the young man. “Would you promise me ownership and control of the apples if that meant your family would live?”

“Ichirou, leave him out of this!”

He hears Aurora gasp in pain, but he can’t look away from the man in front of him. “And you would leave them alone?” 

At the sound of the guns safety being turned off, Castor tries to look over, but Ichirou’s fingers tighten around his jaw. “Yes.” 

Aurora screams, long and anguished, when Castor takes Ichirou’s hand. This time Ichirou allows Castor to break eye contact and look at Aurora. There’s tears streaming down her face and her eyes are bright in horror. One of Ichirou’s guards has a gun pressed against the side of her head. “Castor, please, run. Why didn’t you run?” 

Castor tenses when he feels Ichirou wrap an arm around his shoulder. His hot breath tickles Castor’s neck when he speaks lowly into his ear. “Say goodbye.” 

“Goodbye,” Castor echoes, blinking back tears. 

“And farewell,” Ichirou breathes out, guiding Castor towards the front gates. There’s a carriage decorated in black and red waiting at the end of the path. Ichirou helps Castor into his seat, resting a gentle hand on his knee when they’re both seated. Just as the door is about to close, Castor hears the sound of gunfire and jumps. 

Unable to hold back the tears any longer, Castor cries silently as Ichirou pull him into his lap and he feels the telltale magic seep into his veins. 

~

When Castor was younger, he was the only child living with Aurora. It was a lonely six years until Aurora brought home Caelum. He was a few months younger than Castor and had an unlimited supply of energy. They would race through the apple trees and chase fireflies at dusk. Aurora would wrap them up in blankets and they would sit on the steps of the house and look at the stars. Both boys were named after stars and they loved learning the names of constellation. 

Next was Phoebe. She was a little thing when Aurora brought her home. Barely six months old, Phoebe quickly became the princess of the house, spoiled by her two older brothers. Caelum and Castor took it upon themselves to teach Phoebe about the apples and the land they live on, even if she couldn’t understand them. They took her on walks and read her books when they weren’t busy. Aurora liked to keep them busy by teaching them to garden and care for the land around them. 

Nine months after Phoebe’s arrival, Lyra arrived. She was older than Caelum and Castor. She was the only one who could remember their parents and she would tell them stories of her huge family when the weather was bad. Castor was probably the only one to know that Lyra cried herself to sleep after telling those stories. It’s a blessing that he can’t remember his parents, Lyra would say, because then he doesn’t have to deal with the pain of missing them. 

Finally came Selene. By this time Castor is thirteen and beyond excited to have someone new in the house. Selene is two when she comes to live with them and its instantly clear that something is wrong. Aurora calls a doctor who says that Selene suffers from moderate hearing loss and will have to wear a hearing aid. But that didn’t stop the little girl from running around with her siblings and climbing the trees. 

Sitting in a pool of messy sheets, Castor’s jerked out of his thoughts when the door opens. He sits up a little straighter when the person walks over to the bed, removing their jacket along the way and unbuttoning their shirt. 

Smiling sweetly, Castor wraps his arms around the person’s stomach when they sit on the edge of the bed, resting his head against their back. “You’re home early, Ich.” 

It’s not phrased like a question because Castor has learned that there's stuff that Ichirou can’t talk about. It frustrates him that he doesn’t know what’s happening beyond the house, that he doesn’t have a source of information beyond Ichirou. 

“That’s because tomorrow is going to be a big day,” he answers, intertwining their fingers together. “I’m having a guest over.” Castor perks up at the mention of someone coming over. It's very rare that Ichirou allows someone to come into their peaceful space. Castor can’t remember the last time he saw a person who wasn’t Ichirou or one of the staff that cooked and cleaned. “And that means you can’t spend the entire day out in the garden. You’ll be having supper with us.”

“Thank you,” Castor whispers. Ichirou pulls away and maneuvers Castor until he’s lying on his back and Ichirou hovers above him. Ichirou leans down to kiss him, bringing his hands up to touch the collar around his neck. Closing his eyes as Ichirou’s hands wander further down his body, Castor loses himself in the sensation of being the center of someone’s universe. 

 

When Castor enters the dining room the next day, the man seated across from Ichirou – Nathaniel – almost falls out of his chair when he hastily stands. Ichirou arches an eyebrow at his guest’s odd behaviour then looks over at Castor. He shifts uncomfortably under the men’s gaze, rubbing his arm. The red silk that’s wrapped around his upper body is striking against the paleness of his skin and the black leather pants are like a second skin. His hair is down for a change. Usually Castor just throws it up in a messy bun because it gets in the way, but today Ichirou wanted to show it off. Castor looks at Ichirou and that gives Ichirou’s guest a perfect view of their collar. This seems to snap Nathaniel out of whatever state he was in and he apologizes as he sits back down, although his eyes seem a bit too wide. 

Ichirou’s eyes flicker to the seat to their right and Castor quickly takes his seat. Dinner is served, and Ichirou and Nathaniel ignore Castor as they discuss business. They’re talking in a language he doesn’t understand, so he tunes them out, poking at his food. 

“Castor.” Ichirou’s inpatient tone startles him out of his thoughts and back to the dining room sometime later. Ichirou and Nathaniel are staring at Castor and he blushes under their gaze. “Nathaniel will be staying with us for a few days. Please show him to his room.” 

Glad to be allowed to leave, Castor bows to Ichirou before exiting, only slowing down long enough to make sure their guest is following. The house Castor has called home the past five years is hardly impressive. It’s a modest two stories with enough bedrooms to satisfy Ichirou and a beautiful garden for Castor. The only guest bedroom is located on the first floor, near the back. 

“Here it is.” Castor opens the door revealing the cream and red decorated bedroom. Stepping inside, Nathaniel stops in the middle of the room, staring blankly at the wall. Castor frowns. “Ah, Nathaniel, are you alright?” 

Without looking at Castor, he answers, “please call me Neil.” 

“Okay. Neil, can I get you anything?” he tries again, wanting to go back to his room and sleep. 

Icy blue eyes turn in his direction and Castor shutters. “Can I ask you a question?” 

“Sure.”

Castor doesn’t try to rush Neil when he doesn’t speak immediately. Obviously, there is something bothering Neil and he allows him the silence to find the right words. “Do you remember your family?” 

Of all the things Castor expected Neil to ask about, his family certainly wasn’t one of them. “Of course I do.” 

“I don’t mean your adopted family,” he clarifies. 

He doesn’t understand why Neil would care about such things like his family, but there must be a reason, right? Just like there must be a reason he reacted in such a way when he walked in. “I don’t remember anything,” he answers honestly. “The only family I have ever known is Aurora and the other kids. Why?” 

Instead of answering, Neil pulls a piece of paper out of his jacket pocket. He hands it to Castor wordlessly and he unfolds it with trembling fingers. The piece of paper is actually a picture. There’s six people in the picture, standing together in front of a house. He recognizes Neil in the picture, standing between a girl with pastel hair and a guy easily a foot taller than Neil. But no one is as interesting as the boy in the middle, seated in a wheelchair. His hair isn’t quite as long as Castor’s, but that’s not what’s most striking about them. Castor finds himself staring into the eyes he sees when he looks in the mirror. The picture falls from his fingers, but neither of them tries to pick it up.

“What does it mean?” he asks, glaring at Neil. “Who is that!” 

“You honestly don’t remember,” Neil muses, sounding curious and maybe a bit… sad? For a moment, Neil wonders if it’d be kinder not to tell Castor about his family, but the sight of the collar circling his neck makes up Neil’s mind. Castor won’t try to leave Ichirou without the proper motivation and this could be just the thing. “Your mother made the hardest decision a parent could make when she made the choice to give you up. But I think the hardest part was choosing which of her children to keep safe.” Castor can’t move as he listens to Neil, fearing the implications. He wants to know how Neil knows more about his history then he does, but his tongue feels heavy in his mouth. “Aurora could only care for one of you. Rare magical potential runs through your veins and without proper guidance and education, there can be devastating effects.” 

“Who is that?” Castor asks again, afraid to raise his voice above a whisper. 

Tired of dancing around the truth, Neil answers bluntly, “your brother.” 

Having a brother isn’t a new concept for Castor, Caelum was his brother just like Lyra, Selena, and Phoebe were his sisters. But there’s something different knowing that he has a biological brother out there somewhere and Aurora, the person he considered a mother, didn’t try to help them too. 

“I-I don’t understand.” 

“As you very well know, there are people who want to use your magic for their own personal gain. Aurora knew this too, but she could only keep one of you safe. Having two children with that much magical potential would draw attention.” There’s a softness in Neil’s tone that Castor finds oddly comforting, but that could just be because the only other comfort he’s had in the past five years has been Ichirou… and it’s better not to think about that. “Your brother was sent to live with people who didn’t know that magic exists, and he never learned how to control his magic and it’s… slowly killing him.” 

His mind is moving at the speed of light, trying to understand everything that Neil has revealed. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Ichirou cannot be allowed to have this power anymore. I want to take you somewhere safe, and I thought that if you knew about your brother you’d be more willing to come with me. I can take you to him.” 

“I don’t want to be Castor anymore,” he confesses softly, wrapping his arms around himself. The gold collar locked around his neck and the bracelets on his wrists feel like they’re weighing him down and the pressure in his chest makes it hard to breathe. “I don’t want to be Ichirou’s lapdog.”

“Then who do you want to be?” Neil asks, because he knows better than anyone the desire to be someone else. 

“What is my brother’s name?”

“Andrew.” 

Thinking it over for a moment, he decides, “then I’ll be Aaron.” 

~

The familiar sound of a wheelchair entering the room causes some subconscious part of Aaron’s brain to tuck in his feet and shift over in his chair. Back home, Aaron always stole the plush seat by the fireplace and Lyra would abandon her wheelchair and squish between Aaron and the armrest. The seat wasn’t big enough for two people, but neither of them complained. When he looks up and sees that it isn’t Lyra sitting in the wheelchair, it takes him a second to remember where he is. 

The person sitting in the wheelchair appears unhealthily thin. The dark clothes they wear hang off their body, and their long blond hair covers their face like a curtain. Aaron doesn’t know what to think about the person in front of him until they look up. The breath is stolen right from his lungs as hazel eyes meet. 

He remembers impossible things. He remembers the stars painted on the ceiling of his bedroom, the neighbour’s cat that used to sneak over at night and curl up with him, the trees with the deep purple leaves that stayed all year-long. He remembers what his mother looked like and how she used to watch him sleep late into the night, the overwhelming smell of the lavender hand soap she used. He remembers the house he was raised in for the first two years of his life before going to live with Aurora. But most importantly he finally remembers he has a brother. 

“Pollux,” he chokes out, reaching out before he consciously makes the decision. He sees something dark flash in Andrew’s eyes and he attempts to pull away, but Andrew’s hand shots out and wraps around his wrist, just below the bracelet. 

“What are these?” 

Fear twists in Aaron’s gut and he tries again to pull his hand away, but Andrew just tightens his grip. “Andrew,” Neil steps forward, hand hovering over Andrew’s shoulder. “Let him go.” 

One by one Andrew’s fingers uncurl from Aaron’s writs. His stare is fixated on the collar when he says, “I want them gone.” 

“Andrew, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Renee says, inspecting one of the bracelets. “Although they’re a sign of possession, that’s not all they are. These are binding runes carved into the metal. Magical binding runes.” Letting go of Aaron’s arm, Renee looks up at him. “Aaron, these runes are very rare and need a lot of magic to make. Why would Ichirou use these runes?” 

“Be-because Aurora’s dead.” That’s the first time Aaron’s admit the truth to himself, the truth he’s kept buried inside him for five years. The three of them look at him, confused. “When she died, her ability was passed to me.” 

“What do you mean by ability” At the sound of Dan’s voice, Aaron is reminded they’re not completely alone and he hunches in on himself. 

Renee lays a gentle hand on Aaron’s shoulder, rubbing comforting circles. “Aaron, what do you mean?” 

“Aurora was my guardian and her magic decided that in the event of her death, I would inherit the ability,” he explains, remembering what he’s read in books. “I made Ichirou a promise, and these,” he gestures to the collar and bracelets, “is his way of making sure I keep that promise.” 

Andrew’s wheelchair squeaks as he rolls over, stopping right in front of Aaron and grabbing a fist full of his shirt. “What did you promise him?” 

“I promised him control of my ability if he left my family alone.” 

Andrew let's go of Aaron like his words have physically burned him. Renee is quick to get in between the two brothers. “Aaron, what is your ability.” 

Considering his options, Aaron opts for the stupider of the two and goes to fetch his bag. When he returns, Andrew and Neil are gone, and he refuses to dwell on that. Everyone watches him as he opens is bag and pulls out a golden apple. Dan gasps loudly and collapses against Matt, who’s jaw has dropped. Renee’s look is blank, and she reaches out to take the apple from Aaron. Instinctively, he protectively pulls the apple to his chest, turning away from her. “Aaron?” 

“This is the last one. When Aurora died, there was no one to tend to the orchard and it died. Without me, Ichirou’s tree will die. He needs me, I’m the only person who can grow these apples.” 

“Oh, Aaron,” Dan says sadly. 

“He’s going to come looking for me and he won’t hesitate to kill anyone in his way,” Aaron says wearily. A deep tiredness settles in his bones and his expression becomes pained. He wraps his arms around himself. “I can’t go back.” 

“And you won’t,” Renee declares, and the others nod. “We’ll keep you safe.” 

Renee’s words baffle him. “Didn’t you hear what I just said? Ichirou will kill you! Don’t you care at all for your lives?” 

“We don’t abandoned family,” Matt answers and Dan nods in agreement. 

“I am not a part of your family,” Aaron spats, anger making his face burn. He promised himself after losing Aurora and the kids that he would never allow himself to be a part of a family again. He doesn’t know if he’ll survive going through the crushing pain of losing people again. “You don’t know me. Just because I look and sound like someone you care about doesn’t mean you have to pretend to care about me.” Turning to Renee, he continues, “thanks for saving me, but I can’t stay here. I have somewhere else I can go.” 

“At least stay long enough so we can get those chains off,” Dan bargains, chewing on her bottom lip. “Obviously they’re magically warded so you can’t take them off. At least let us do that.” 

“How long will that take?” he asks. 

Dan looks at Renee for help. “I don’t know,” she admits, “this is much more powerful than anything I’ve worked with before. I’ll check the library for anything helpful, but it could take a while.” She looks at Aaron when she finishes. “But I’ll try my best.” 

~

The thick book in Renee’s hand seems promising by the way she bounces around the room. “Are you ready?” she asks, smiling gently at him. “Because we could always wait.”

“No. I want them off.” 

Renee wanders around the room, picking up bottles, adding some to the bowl and moving others out of the way. Aaron never knew how to make potions, that was always Lyra’s strong suit. Paring potions with magic had the unusual effect of making the magic more powerful. Someone, hundreds of years ago, wrote a book on combining potions and magic. They stated that: ‘when mixing the art of brewing and the craft of verbal magic, a unique relationship is created that enhances the strength of the magic and the longevity of the potion. This relationship cannot be explained, but empirically we can observe an indisputable connection.’  
When Renee pauses in her journey around the room, Aaron’s head whips around when she speaks. “Andrew, are you just going to stay in the doorway or come in?” 

Aaron pointedly looks away from his brother – his twin – as he wheels into the room. It’s a small blessing that Neil isn’t with him – they seem to go everywhere together – he doesn’t want Neil here to see this. In all honesty, he doesn’t really want Andrew here either, but he keeps his mouth shut, knowing that’s an argument he won’t win. Renee directs him to remove his shirt and to lay down on the bed. He supposes there are worse places they could be performing the spell, but Renee’s bedroom just seems a bit weird. 

“This might hurt,” she mutters, dipping her finger in the black liquid. “Try not to move.” 

The moment the black liquid touches the bare skin of Aaron’s chest, he screams and screams until the world around him goes dark and everything is silent. 

 

When Aaron wakes up, he’s alone and wearing clean clothes. He recognizes the guest room and lets himself relax. The pain of the spell still echoes in his mind and he curls in on himself. When he has the energy to open his eyes, his head is turned towards the mirror. If he had more energy he might have screamed when he sees unnatural, glowing purple eyes staring back at him. Once he’s calmed down enough to rationally think again, there’s no doubt in his mind that the spell worked. 

~

When he walks into the parlor, he doesn’t even react when he sees Lyra already in the room. 

“Neil thinks you’re an idiot for leaving,” she says, lounging on the couch, looking at Castor through her eyelashes. 

“Oh, fuck off. You don’t even know Neil,” he sneers. 

Shrugging, Lyra kicks the pillow to the floor childishly. “But you do, and aren’t I just a figure of your imagination? You and I both know that Neil thinks you’re an idiot in general and you leaving isn’t going to change that.” 

The wind howls outside like a raging beast, shaking the branches of the dead trees. Clouds the colour of smoke loom in the distance, warning of an incoming storm. “Castor, you shouldn’t have left them.” 

He doesn’t flinch when she uses his given name anymore. He stopped being Aaron the moment he stepped in the house. “They would have died if I hadn’t.” 

“They would have loved you,” she corrects, “and if that meant dying for you, they would have happily done that.” 

Castor ducks his head. “They shouldn’t have to sacrifice themselves for me.” 

“But isn’t that what you did for us?” Lyra rises from the couch, inclining her head. It's weird for Castor to see Lyra out of her wheelchair, walking without any aid. “You gave yourself to Ichirou to save us. You shouldn’t have had to sacrifice yourself for us.” 

Giving Lyra a bitter smile, Castor says, “in the end, it didn’t even matter. You died anyways.” 

“Castor, you cannot let the fear of losing people stop you from finding happiness. You need to let go of the past.” Kneeling down, she places her hands on his cheeks, tilting his face to look at hers. “You need to let us go.” 

“I-I can’t,” he cries, curling his hands into fists. “I miss you so much.” 

The hug that follows is familiar enough that Castor can believe that nothing has changed, just for a second. He sobs into his sister’s shoulder until all his energy is drained and he slumps against her. “Remember, brother, you were chosen for a reason. Don’t let your sacrifice go to waste.” 

The next morning, Lyra is nowhere to be seen and Aaron stands, knees cracking from spending the night on the floor. Walking to the back porch, Aaron looks out upon the dead orchard and accepts what he has to do. 

~

The house hasn’t change in the months since he’s been there. 

“Aaron!” The sound of his chosen name after so long is jarring, and he turns to see Dan and Allison running towards him. 

“You have some nerve coming back,” Allison fumes, poking a perfectly manicured nail against his chest. 

This was a terrible idea, he thinks, backing away from the two girls. “I just came to give you this.” 

Staring at the golden apple Aaron presents to them, Dan can only ask, “why?”

“It’s for Andrew.”

“Oh, so now you decide to help your brother,” Allison sneers. “Do you have any idea the pain he’s in? He can barely function. You could have helped him months ago!”

“The golden apples were never just meant for one person,” Aaron explains quickly, desperately wanting them to understand. “They are for everyone. I couldn’t have given Andrew the last apple knowing that there are other people out there who are suffering, people who the apples can help.” 

The three of them stand in silence in the front yard until Allison takes the apple from Aaron and makes her way back towards the house. Dan politely invites him inside, but Aaron declines, content with the knowledge that Andrew is going to be okay. It looks like Dan wants to argue, but something in Aaron’s expression makes her pause. She remembers this expression from when Andrew was younger, when he was just starting to get sick and would refuse to stay in bed. She knows there was nothing she could have said to make Andrew change his mind then, and there’s nothing she can say to change Aaron’s mind now. Instead, she does what she did then and keeps quiet as he walks away. Dan follows Allison back into the house, passing Renee in the front entrance. She sends the other girl a questioning look, but Renee just smiles as she walks out the door. 

“Aaron.” Turning around he sees Renee standing on the porch, door open so he can see Neil watching them from inside. “Thank you.” 

There’s a moment where Aaron wonders if leaving is really the right choice. If he stays he could, maybe, have a real relationship with his brother and learn to like the other people in the house. It’s a nice thought, but he now understands what Aurora has always talked about: the calling to return to the orchard. This isn’t the life he’s meant to live, no matter how much he wants to. He sends Renee a small wave and no doubt she can see the longing to stay in his eyes, but she thankfully doesn’t say anything else, just watches as he walks away.


End file.
